


time after time

by Silverwolf329



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-09-28 14:42:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10118696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverwolf329/pseuds/Silverwolf329
Summary: A story of two.





	1. Chapter 1

Ben’s the kind of kid that's a little too solemn, who knows what he wants and works quietly towards it, ducking his head at praise from parents and teachers. He's never been the kind to rush into anything, deliberation always more important than action, the need to know a constant presence in his life.

Ben knows what he’s signing up for, when he sees the man in cadet reds walk into the greenhouse and thinks _fuck, he’s handsome._

He knows what he’s signing up for when he goes out on a second, third, fifth date, when he asks Hikaru to move out of his dorm and into his apartment, when he turns over the soil in a new plot at work one day and sees the ring, spinning around to see his boyfriend on one knee with hope emanating out of every crevice.

He knows what he’s singing up for when he walks down the aisle with the sun in his eyes, and when one day, he looks over at his husband chopping vegetables from their garden in brisk, self-assured movements and can only think _I want to raise a kid with him._

They both know what they’re signing up for when Hikaru accepts the commission on the Enterprise. Five years is a long time to be away, and there’s no guarantee of shore leave in any one particular place, but Hikaru belongs among the stars that shine as brightly as he does and Ben never wants to hold him back, never wants to cover and snuff out that glow, but silently, selfishly wishes he could bottle starlight and wear it under his shirt, next to his heart anyway.

But the stars that are draped in the night sky and the universe beyond beckon, and Ben knows he could never compete with the promise of everything.

Still, neither of them can stomach the thought of five years and no contact. Ben looks up stations where the Enterprise will have the best chance to pass by, and Hikaru buys two PADDs capable of long-distance subspace communication. Ben gets his flyboy a little _Myrtus nivellei_ clipping and Hikaru gets him a _Lilium orientalis_ bulb and they laughed as Demora, tiny little Demora with her dirt-streaked hands and green fingertips, tells them impatiently that the myrtle will grow too big for any starship to hold and Hikaru kisses her nose and tells her he’ll find a way to keep it anyway.

Ben tells Hikaru that he’ll call every day, and he can’t help but notice the way Hikaru’s face falls ever-so-slightly as he tells him that his schedule is uncertain. Ben holds Hikaru’s face and tells him that he will call, every day, so Hikaru better forward him a schedule or expect to start answering calls on the bridge. Hikaru’s face softens as he grins, snapping off a crisp “Aye, Captain!” and Ben can’t help but grin back as he lowers his hands to beckon to Demora, lifting her up to pepper her Papa’s face with kisses before he goes.

* * *

Moving from San Francisco to Yorktown is easier than either of them had thought it would be. Demora is young, too young to really notice that their entire situation has changed, young enough that eventually, she won’t remember anything but the twisting metal city and the stars twinkling everywhere around her when the city shuts off its daylight display. The place is prepped for new colonists, offering jobs and plots of sterile metal land and houses to anyone who needs one.

Ben gets a job as a botanist. The soil under his hands feels good, feels familiar. The roots that he places in it are alien.

He calls his husband every day. Sometimes, the Enterprise is close enough to send and transmit video, and Ben stares at his husband’s face, tracing every deepening line, relearning the face he tries so hard not to forget. But memory is ephemeral and he can’t help but be surprised at just how strong the stab of longing is, every time he sees his husband and realizes he’s forgotten the way that hair falls, the way that tooth is a little out of alignment, the way his upper lip quirks just so when he sees their daughter. Every time, he tries (not very successfully) to squash down the bitterness that the Enterprise was so close but can’t stop, can’t let him hold his husband, can’t understand how much emptier he feels without the knowledge that his husband is _here_ and _alive_ and _safe_.

Usually, Demora is there as he calls, eyes shining in childish glee as she waits to talk to her Papa. Usually, Hikaru answers, voice chipper with excitement as he tells Demora about deep space and asks about her day and she pleads with him for more about the stars before relenting and telling him about this-or-that project that she’s working on now.

Usually.

When the PADD rings twelve times before falling into silence, flashing a “Call not received” on the screen, Ben’s heart skips a beat even as Demora’s face falls. When she looks back at him, the corners of her mouth downturned, eyes starting to shine with unshed tears, he barely remembers to school his face into a smile and tell her that Papa’s okay, Papa’s just busy, we’ll call him tomorrow, okay?

Demora nods and smiles and heads off to do her homework, because this isn’t the first time this has happened, and it won’t be the last. Ben shakes himself and follows her, knowing that he’ll want to berate Hikaru tomorrow and will take one look at him and won’t be able to, not when none of this is his fault and Ben is safe in the knowledge that he’s okay.

Hikaru doesn’t pick up for sixteen days.

Demora starts crawling into his bed on day three, and Ben holds her until she falls asleep, gripping onto his shirt with her little hands that seem too small to be so strong. She’ll tell him that she's a big girl and doesn’t need to be held in the morning, he knows, but he cherishes this moment anyway, watching the bow of her mouth rise and fall and her little nose flare as she sleeps, pieces of Hikaru scattered across her face.

On day five, Ben starts waiting for the Starfleet officers to show up at his door, to tell him his husband is dead, to offer him apologies and condolences and leave him with a Federation flag and a daughter to raise alone out in the darkness of space without even the ground under his feet to keep him steady.

On day seven, he receives a call from the legendary Captain James T. Kirk telling him that it’s Jim, drop the “Captain,” really, and that Hikaru’s okay, there was an away mission gone wrong but “Bones” has done his job and Hikaru has pulled through and is in a light coma but will almost certainly survive, he’s sorry he had to wait this long before calling but Starfleet’s policy says he has to so he doesn’t give anyone false hope, what can you do?

Ben barely hears him over the buzzing in his ears, can’t tell if he can control his mouth well enough to not tell “Jim” that false hope is better than nightmares of his husband floating in the freezing darkness of space, skin turning blue before swelling and exploding. He’s almost late picking Demora up, and for the first time, she doesn’t ask when they’re going to call Papa and stares sadly at the PADD as it rings.

He almost doesn’t call the next day, but he knows he would never forgive himself if Hikaru had to stare at the PADD ringing, hoping Yorktown hasn’t been attacked, wondering why Ben hasn’t called.

When Hikaru finally, finally picks up on the seventeenth day, he’s too exhausted and in pain to even force cheer into his voice, the melancholy that always lurks in the background brought front and center for all to see. When Hikaru trails off into silence in the middle of a sentence Ben’s heart stops until a gruff voice grumbles that he’s fine, just tired and in need of rest, softening as it tells Demora that her Papa will be okay, y’hear? As Ben ends the transmission, Demora’s lip is wobbling and he quickly pulls her into a hug, telling her that Papa is- Papa will be okay, the doctor said so, he’s hurt but he’ll be okay, and we’ll call him tomorrow and the day after that and hear him get better.

Demora peers up at him through tear-stained eyes distrustfully, and Ben’s heart breaks that much more. He presses a shaking kiss into her hair, then carries her into his (and Hikaru’s) bed, neither of them pretending that she, or he, wants to sleep alone tonight.

The next day dawns at exactly 0700, panels flipping on the atmosphere dome surrounding them, ushering in the light without a sun. Ben takes Demora to school and then goes to work, mechanically uprooting and replanting and tamping down dirt and checking soil nutrient level and dampness and temperature. He picks Demora up and they call Hikaru again that night, but he falls asleep in the middle of the call and Demora climbs off Ben’s lap and into his bed and he doesn’t have the heart to tell her that she needs to change and brush her teeth as she pouts at the pillow, trying to hold back tears and not quite succeeding because she’s never had to hide, not from her Papa and Daddy.

But Hikaru does get better, voice losing its scratchiness as he begins to tell Demora about the latest adventure they were on. Demora forgets that Hikaru was ever injured and demands more even as Ben pleads silently for him to never go on an adventure again, to come home to them and stay here, so that Ben can hold him and keep him safe and never hear him injured again. He can’t silence the little voice in the back of his head that wonders if Hikaru’s really okay, because a disembodied voice never seems quite real enough.

He can’t help the sigh of relief when he gets to video call Hikaru and he picks up, grinning ear to ear, safe and whole and blessedly alive.

* * *

Life marches on.

They settle into their new home, here in Yorktown. Demora makes friends and is out more and more often, but does her best to make it back to talk to Papa every day. Ben can’t help but notice how empty the apartment is without her, so he goes out and makes friends as well. One day Demora asks if Azlei can come over and play, and he answers that as long as Azlei’s parents are okay with it he is too. When a little boy with green skin and fins instead of ears shows up at their house the next day, he can't contain his shock for the briefest of moments, and smiles a little ruefully.

Both his daughter and his husband belong to this brave new world, but he still misses shaking the dust from his boots before going inside after a long day at work, tasting the moisture in the air change from day to night, squinting against the bright glare of the sun. He looks at his hands, impeccably clean from the sonic sink, not a speck of dirt under the nails, and shakes his head, still grinning, and moves to pull Demora off the back of the couch.

That night, Hikaru is almost vibrating with energy when he picks up. Ben doesn’t have time to take a breath before Hikaru tells them that the ship’s going to be stopping at Yorktown for a little bit, and he’ll get to see them in person, isn’t that exciting? Demora shouts and laughs and tells Hikaru just what she’s going to show him when he gets here, tells him that he better get here quick. Ben can’t stop smiling, not even as he finally has to tell his husband goodbye. He’s even smiling as he falls asleep.

Now it’s Ben’s turn to be vibrating with energy as he picks his daughter up from school and takes her to docking entrance 3, waiting in the warm light for Hikaru. At every flash of command gold Demora points and yells, until Hikaru walks through those doors and runs right to them, scooping Demora up into his arms as Ben touches him for the first time in what feels like forever, and Hikaru’s still in his uniform and smells like regulated, recycled starship air but his lips feel like coming home, and Ben never wants to let go as he guides Hikaru to their apartment.

Ben introduces Hikaru to their neighbors, and Demora shows him her drawings, and everything feels so very right for the first time in a very long time. Demora climbs into their bed that night and it’s a little crowded and she steals the blankets but it’s perfect, and Ben wants to take this moment and dry it and press it and keep it forever, and as his eyes meet Hikaru’s, he knows Hikaru feels the same way.

The universe, however, is not that kind. In two days, which is too short, will always be too short, the Enterprise is called away, and Hikaru goes, because he has a duty and his Captain is calling. But his eyes are sad and Ben can't help but feel selfishly, selfishly satisfied that he can tether his husband here, just for a little, before he slips through his fingers and floats off into the night sky again.

Hikaru tells Demora that it’ll be a couple of days, it’s a quick mission and he’ll be back before she knows it. Hikaru tells Ben that it’s a retrieval mission through an uncharted nebula, and they’re going to lose communications but it should be relatively easy, and he should pick up on the second or third day if Ben calls.

He doesn’t pick up. Ben feels like there is a hand around his heart, squeezing, and there’s not enough air but Demora’s looking at him again and so he smiles and tells her that Papa’ll be home soon and everything’s okay.

Except everything’s not okay and the next day, the city is shaking and falling to pieces around them and he’s holding Demora as tight as he can and running to where the Starfleet official is directing him as the sirens blare in warning, but he can tell by the look in her eyes that it’s not going to be safe and they might all die here, in the crushing loneliness of empty space, but he runs anyway as ships level buildings and he knows, he _knows_ that Hikaru is dead somewhere in that nebula because the Enterprise isn’t here and his legs go numb and Demora starts crying in his ear.

The sky is filled with those little ships, swarming and buzzing like little bees and it would be almost funny if Ben wasn't so bone-shatteringly afraid, exhausted like he's never been before, and he feels the lethargic cold of space seeping into their perfectly temperature-regulated little bubble, and he's never felt so small, never felt so helpless.

It feels like he’s spent an eternity hiding, shushing Demora as she hiccups, covering her ears as he hears the rubble falling and hears the screams of dying citizens, and at each one he wonders, morbidly, if that’s how Hikaru sounded when he died, or if the vacuum of space swallowed up his last breath just like it swallowed up Ben’s. He puts his head over Demora’s and breathes in the smell of her shampoo and reminds himself to stay here for her, for her, even if he’s gone, forever, and Ben will never see him again, will have an empty casket and the Federation flag of unity to mourn over.

He can feel the ground shaking in pulses, and from the entrance of their little shelter he can see the sky light up in a blanket of flame and he closes his eyes and waits to die, turning his back to the entrance and blocking Demora’s view, waiting for the searing heat of the fire to rush across his back, hoping that at least his death will be quick, and he wonders, idly, if the little lily stalks on the other side of the city will survive this, and who will water them if they do.

But Ben doesn’t die and Hikaru’s not dead and the Enterprise is, and Ben as holds him he can feel how unsteady Hikaru is, he can’t tell if that trembling is his or Hikaru’s or Demora’s and all of them smell like smoke and ash and he’s grasping Hikaru’s shirt like it’s the only thing that’s keeping him here and in all honesty it might be, and Hikaru’s holding him just as tightly back and he feels Hikaru’s breath, feels his shirt slowly wet with Hikaru’s tears and when did he start crying, too, because now all of them are crying and holding each other in the middle of the broken city like nothing else matters because it doesn’t, it doesn’t, not when they’re here and together and alive.

He can’t tell how long they sit there, holding each other, trembling. It feels like being born again, holding his family in the middle of the smoking rubble that didn't feel like home until it was gone. They only get up because a man in a blue shirt with that voice, that gruff voice, tells them that they need to get down to Medical. Ben goes, and he’s holding Hikaru and Demora and he’s never going to let go, and by how tight they’re holding him back he knows that they’re never letting go either, and he might have a fractured rib and a damaged airway from smoke inhalation but he doesn't feel it through the texture of Hikaru’s shirt under his hands, Demora’s shoe pressing insistently against his thigh.

And when they fall into bed that night, Ben doesn't care that it's a cot, doesn't care that their apartment is gone and his greenhouse might be too, because his family is pressed close to him, keeping him warm, and he still wants to absorb them through his skin and keep them safe, forever, but for now, this is enough.

And a few months later they’re at a party, and Ben still can’t stop touching Hikaru to reassure himself that he’s real, and from the viewing window they see the shiny new Enterprise being revealed. He sees the hunger in Hikaru’s eyes, feels the crew crowd around them, all vying for a good glimpse at that ship, and he knows they’ll never stay grounded, not when their lady is begging them to fly free. But Hikaru is warm and alive in his arms, and he can’t bring himself to be jealous or bitter or afraid, because he can feel the exhilaration thrumming through the room like something alive, and he’s never wanted to hold Hikaru back, not when he’s made for something so much greater, not when eternity is just waiting to set him free.

Hikaru is here, alive, now. That’s enough.


	2. Chapter 2

Hikaru’s head is craned towards the night sky, again.

Air pollution may have been solved a century or so ago, but light pollution would always be a problem in sunny San Francisco. The stars are blocked out at night, hidden by the twinkling of the artificial lights of the city. Hikaru doesn’t mind, usually. He loves the city, with its noise and people all moving to everywhere. Sometimes he feels like he could stand in the middle of the city forever, watching the people bustle around him. Quickly, though, his feet will urge him to move and he’ll go, because his father won’t be there to rap his knuckles and tell him to sit still, and he’s never been fond of inactivity.

Iowa, though, is a different case. 

Here, the agricultural sector never really died, not even after the advent of replicators and improved hydroponic farming. Hikaru loves plants, he really does, but endless fields of corn will never appeal to him. No, what drew him to Iowa is the sky, the blank, unpolluted sky, with its endless galaxies stretching out before him, unmarred by the little yellow porch light he’s sitting under. 

He was accepted into Starfleet twelve days ago. It still feels unreal, but Hikaru’s never been one to question luck, so he scheduled the last Earthside vacation he would ever be on ten days ago. His friends looked at him strangely when he told them he was going to Iowa. His siblings gave him a bag of popcorn. His mother asked why.

He smiled, briefly, and pointed up. Beside them, his father snorted and told him that xenobiology is a perfectly acceptable profession, and that he doesn’t need to go to space to do it. Hikaru smiles wider. He knows that they will never go into space again, not after the attack on their prosperous colony not so long ago that forced them back here. But he doesn’t want to be constrained, not to this planet, not to this life. 

His heart is buzzing with excitement, and his feet are buzzing with the urge to  _ go _ , but he keeps his face calm and his feet firmly planted on the ground, and heads out to rural Iowa. 

That night, he gets a tattoo. Maybe a tattoo of a line from a poem is cheesy, and maybe he’ll regret it when he’s thirty, but for now, he doesn’t care. “The Old Astronomer,” centuries old now, is what first tipped his head towards the sky. 

And he really, really does love the stars. 

He traces the flowing script on his arm as he walks back to his little cabin. His heart sings at the constellations, and they serenade him back. The silent guardians of humanity’s greatest accomplishments and worst failures smile down at him, beckoning him to join them in their lofty dance. His father once told him he would get a cramp and walk into a pole, with his head like that. His mother smiled fondly and tilted his head further up to wipe away the streak of dirt on his jaw.

In two months, he will be at Starfleet Academy. In four years, he will graduate, and he will follow the best of humanity into the unknown.

Now, he closes his eyes and tilts his head back, basking in the cool light of the moon. Above him, the motion sensor activated porch light flickers and turns off.

* * *

 

In his second year at the Academy, Hikaru switches from Science/Medical to Command track. He loves the little clippings from Vulcan and Betazed and the yet-unnamed HZ12-146, but their delicate beauty can’t match the rush of adrenaline that comes from a successful flight sim. He briefly considers Tactical/Engineering, but the idea of having nothing to be lost in but his own skin is suffocating. The way his stomach drops in a controlled fall is exhilarating. The way his mind clears to a razor-thin focus during evasive maneuvers is invigorating. The way the console hums under his fingertips is addicting. He wants more, and more, and ever more.

Hikaru no longer wants to follow humanity into the universe. He wants to be front and center, leading the charge.

He still walks into the greenhouse that night, to finish off his Xenobotanical Studies course. The man that smiles at him from Plot Seven makes his left hand tremble, just a little bit. 

He goes on a date, and then another, and then another. He moves into Ben’s apartment. Ben comes to his graduation, and two weeks later, Hikaru buys a ring. This isn’t a combat situation, and mistakes are okay in his civilian life. But as Ben turns around, Hikaru knows that if Ben refuses him now his heart will surely stop.

Ben says yes. Ben is radiant as he walks down the aisle. Ben asks if he wants to raise a child, and Hikaru knows then that the stars will never shine as brightly again, because he has a daughter and a husband, and he loves them with everything that he is. 

Hikaru’s afraid, a little, of how much he’s attached to them. For an object to experience free-fall means to have no forces acting upon an object but gravity. But time stops when Demora says “Papa” for the first time, and again when she says “Daddy,” and Hikaru thinks he might understand, for the first time, why gravity is so inescapable when your feet are on the ground. 

Ben tells him that he’ll be calling every night. Hikaru thinks of away missions, of unscheduled training, of red alerts on the bridge. He tells Ben that his schedule is uncertain, but Ben is insistent, and Hikaru knows that he will come back, every time, after the red lights have faded and the ship powers down for Gamma shift.

He claims a plot in the ship’s botany lab, and he plants the little myrtle clipping. It grows, higher and higher, and he thinks about the fact that Demora’s probably growing, too, as he trims the myrtle’s leaves. It’s hard to tell, when a tinny voice is his only contact with her. 

Hikaru watches Vulcan collapse and crumble. He sees the pain in Commander Spock’s eyes as his mother slips through his fingertips. He wonders, briefly, just how much Vulcans can feel, as he schools his face into an officer’s mask and flies.

Later, he watches Khan take them apart. He sits in the Captain’s chair, and it feels like a living being under him. He issues an order that he knows won’t be followed, and forces his face into calmness. His skin is buzzing, shocks of anxiety skittering up and down his arms. Then his Captain is dead and his Commander has given way to rage. He can’t see the stars. The sun is shining too brightly. 

His family moves to a city floating in space. The first time Ben video calls him from their new apartment he sees regulation metal walls instead of the hanging vines Ben loves so much, and he’s acutely aware of the tired sag of Ben’s shoulders. He’s acutely aware of the way his feet suddenly feel heavier, the way his stomach drops and the red alert doesn’t blare behind him.

There’s a dangerous away mission that involves first contact with a warrior race. Sulu is called away from the bridge to be on it, and he idly wonders how different his life would be if he hadn’t volunteered to fall onto that drill, so long ago. The Captain grins at him, still so full of boyish energy, and he smiles back. And then he’s planetside, and there’s a spear in his gut and a claw  _ inside _ the back of his head, and he can only wonder if this kind of rush could ever be worth never seeing his family again.

His dreams are strange. His mother yells at him in Japanese, then Chinese, then Korean. Her face is a shade of red he’s never seen before, not even when he thought he could fly and jumped off a tree branch, breaking his arm. His father pushes his glasses up on his nose, disapproving, and they catch the light and twinkle like dying stars. His eyes are hidden by the light, but Hikaru thinks he sees a tear fall slowly down his cheek.

Now it’s Ben with the spear in his liver. Now it’s Demora with brain matter leaking onto the ground. Hikaru is numb. Hikaru tears worlds apart. 

He can’t tell if he’s dead or not, if this is heaven or hell. He hears Pavel’s voice filtering through the fog, calling him in an eerie echo. He hears the Captain’s voice, and the Captain says “Ben” amidst a jumble of other words, and Hikaru falls, devastated, when that voice drips, like water, from his fingertips. 

He hears Doctor McCoy grumbling next to him, but it can’t be McCoy, not really. His voice is too soft, and Demora’s voice is there too. 

He opens his eyes and gasps like he’s drowning, and the first word out of his scrambled brain and into his mouth is _Ben_. Ben’s not there, of course. The Enterprise is too far away from Yorktown, and can’t afford to make a stopover for the sake of one officer. He sees the pity in Uhura’s eyes. He closes his own. 

That night, Ben calls. Hikaru can hear the tension in his voice. He can hear the quiet hope in Demora’s, and he mourns her first heartbreak as fire dances along his abdomen, lying on his side so as to not disturb either wound. He’s still talking when the world starts fading away, the lights flickering and dimming. He tries to hold on, but his mind is racing too fast for his body to handle and it shuts down. He wonders if he’ll wake up in the morning.

He does. 

Slowly, he gets better. He sweats through the physical rehabilitation Doctor McCoy puts him through. He reopens the tear in his abdomen, once, and Doctor McCoy is terrifying. He smiles when the turbolift opens to the bridge for the first time, and schools his body into stillness as the console hums to life under his fingertips and Doctor McCoy smiles at him from beside the Captain's chair. 

Demora gets loud again. Ben doesn’t sound sad anymore. Hikaru thinks he has found serenity. 

He can’t stop the smile on his face when the Captain tells the crew that they will be taking shore leave at Yorktown. He’s not sure if he wants to. He’s still smiling when Ben calls that night. He can feel their happiness through the screen, and he feels his own swirling in the air around him. He hopes that they can feel his anticipation as eagerly as he can feel theirs. When the screen goes black that night, he stares at his own reflection for a moment. He looks happy. 

 

* * *

Demora’s a little sticky when he picks her up. He tastes apple juice when he kisses her cheek. He smells good earth when he kisses Ben, and the world narrows and falls away as Ben slips an arm around his waist and Demora throws her arms around his neck. It’s been a long time since he’s held his family.

The next few days are blissful. Ben shows him around the city, and Demora shows him her school projects, and it’s so achingly domestic that Hikaru almost wants to stay here forever. 

When Ben takes him out for a walk that night, the stars twinkle in unison around them, dancing and laughing in unfamiliar ways. Hikaru doesn’t notice. Ben’s eyes are twinkling too. 

But then he wakes up to the all-too-familiar buzz of his communicator, and his Captain tells him that he’s needed. There’s a ship stranded in a nebula that prevents communications, and they are the only ones that can get to it in time. Disregarding the nebula, it’s a rather standard search-and-rescue mission. They’ll be in and out, and he’ll be home in time for dinner. 

Kirk gives a speech, and Hikaru feels a creeping anxiety in his gut. He breathes, and takes the ship into the nebula. He hadn’t thought to grab his little picture of Demora before they left.

And of course this mission would go wrong. Hikaru’s handed the conn, and the warp nacelles are broken off the ship, and the saucer section won’t detach. Nyota disappears off the bridge. The Captain gives the order to abandon ship. Hikaru looks at Pavel, and Pavel looks back, and he thinks this might be goodbye. 

The Kelvin pod muffles sound. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t notice the drone until it’s on him, and the pod is hurtling sideways and blaring warnings at him. But the straps keep him firmly secured, and the Kelvin pod is too small to move in. There’s nothing he can do but stand and wait, watching the universe spin incoherently around him. At some point, he starts feeling light and giddy. Hypoxia, his brain acknowledges dimly. 

Hypoxia. He grins.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s being roughly dragged away from his pod, a weapon already shoved against the small of his back. He’s light-headed and his legs feel weak, but he gets them underneath him and walks anyway. Slowly, more and more of the Enterprise crew starts to trickle together. 

He sees Nyota and feels fractionally safer. Captain Kirk will never leave his crew behind. Nyota will never let her crew get hurt under her watch, and neither will Hikaru.

He thinks of Ben, and Demora, and his heart aches at the thought of never seeing them again. He thinks of the way Ben’s face will fall when he doesn’t pick up tonight. Demora might throw another tantrum. God, he misses Demora’s tantrums. 

At least it’s warm on this planet. Hikaru doesn’t know what he would do, if the planet was too hot or too cold for beings from M-class planets to survive. He plans escapes that he knows won’t work, not when they’re unarmed and have no knowledge about this planet, and idly traces shapes on the dirt with his toes.

Krall arrives. Krall has a hand on his neck and he feels the life draining out of him. He feels the warmth leaving his fingertips, and the cold embrace of oblivion slowly creeping around his ribcage, pressing tighter and tighter against his spine. His mother’s holding his hand, urging him to walk with her, and it’s so familiar and welcome but he looks back and Ben’s watching him sadly, eyes pleading with him to stay, hands firmly on their daughter's shoulders.

Ensign Syl tells Krall she’ll give him what he wants, and he musters the last of the breath in his lungs to tell her not to. Krall’s targeting Yorktown, and in the back of his mind Hikaru can see Ben looking at the nebula through Yorktown’s protective shield, looking directly at him.

Ensign Syl gives up the Abornath. Ensign Syl dies. Hikaru wonders if she has a family. He’ll write them a condolence letter, when they get out of here. 

He wonders what good that will do. 

He sees several Captain Kirks riding around them on ancient motorcycles, and feels the familiar tingle of transportation, and then he’s on a bridge that’s he doesn’t recognize. The console under his hands isn’t his. It’s dark. He dives off of a cliff, and as the ground rushes up to meet him he thinks that he may have made a miscalculation. 

He didn’t make a miscalculation. They fly. 

They make it to Yorktown in time, it seems. But Hikaru finds it hard to feel relief when he knows that Yorktown’s still surrounded and Ben, on the inside, is unprotected from the ships that have already made it in. It’s even harder to feel relief when the swarm coalesces and rises above them, dark and menacing, blocking out all ambient light. It’s suffocating. 

And then they’re blasting classical music into space and he’s flying like he’s never flown before. Yorktown receives the jamming frequency. He sees their atmospheric shields explode in a skin of fire, and he knows with an awful, crushing certainty that Ben thinks he’s dead. The split second after, he realizes that he doesn’t know if Ben’s alive, and his mind goes blank as his hands stutter across the console. 

He takes them into Yorktown, and the console screams at him as the ship bites through solid metal. Hikaru notes that the ship has no functional red alert. He finds it strange to fear for his life without the sirens wailing behind him, bathing the bridge in crimson. 

Hikaru thinks he may have stopped breathing, when he saw fire engulf Yorktown. That’s okay. He can fly this ship without the breath in his lungs.

His fingers flick rapidly across the display, adjusting for decreased power to the starboard thruster, compensating for the fluctuating web of artificial gravity inside Yorktown, adapting to the newfound drag of the synthetic atmosphere. Pavel rapidly fires coordinates at him, mapping a course to follow the ship in Yorktown that’s most likely to be Krall’s.

He would like to say that the rest of the flight passes in a blur, or that he doesn’t remember exactly what happens. That, however, would be a lie. He remembers every moment with aching clarity, because every moment is a moment spent wondering if two of the life forms that just escaped the path of that crumbling building or couldn’t escape the rubble are Ben and Demora. He feels guilty, vaguely, that Ben and Demora are so much more important to him than the other citizens of Yorktown. He lands the ship. The Captain defeats Krall in a one-on-one fight. 

Yorktown is saved.

Hikaru’s picking through the rubble and assisting emergency relief efforts when he feels the hand on his shoulder. When he looks up, he simply sees his Captain, telling him to  _ go _ . He doesn’t need to ask where. He barely remembers to thank his Captain. 

It’s a long search. Yorktown is a big city, and everyone is trying to find their loved ones. Then, he spots Ben, and he feels air in his lungs again.

He’s never been able to conceptualize, before now, the way time slows and then stops in a black hole. But then he sees the back of Ben’s head, and he feels like he’s moving through molasses. He dimly hears himself calling out, and he sees Ben turn around, and in Ben’s arms is Demora, safe and sound. 

Hikaru’s always considered himself a patient man. But every person between them feels like an insurmountable obstacle. Every second he is blocked by an elbow in his ribs or a leg in his path feels like it stretches into an eternity. He feels like his heart might expand through his lungs. He can’t tell if he’s really moving, but he must be, because Ben is now in his arms. 

Ben is marred by the acrid smell of smoke. There’s soot on his face, and matching streaks on Demora’s, as well. Hikaru holds his family in his arms. He might be crying. Demora’s crying. Ben starts crying too. Hikaru doesn’t want to let go. Hikaru doesn’t want to leave. 

Doctor McCoy tells them that they need to report for medical care. Hikaru wonders, briefly, at the softness in his eyes. They wander off towards the emergency medical tents that have been set up, and Hikaru’s not ready to let go of Ben and Demora, even as nurses pass tricorders over their intertwined bodies. Doctor McCoy glares at him. He doesn’t let go.

He’s still holding on at the Captain’s birthday party, as he and Ben laugh and smile their way through the gathering. Pavel remarks that it seems like the two have merged into one being. Hikaru doesn’t tell him how much he wishes they could.

Months pass. Yorktown is rebuilt. Ben goes back to work, and Demora goes back to school, and Hikaru has never realized, before now, how lonely a shared home can be.

And then he sees the new ship, with a bold 1701-A emblazoned on its hull. His heart skips a beat, and he feels like he’s suddenly sprouted wings. They’re beating against the ground, stirring up currents, and the wind is whispering at him to fly. He feels the air chasing him higher, into forever, and he feels his crew press around him, following him up into infinity. But Ben’s hand is warm on his side, and Demora’s laughter still echoes in his head. 

He closes his eyes. The wind can wait. He’s home. 


End file.
